She wants a Big Fattie

March 3, 2009 at 3:38 pm 7 comments

One of the most entertaining things about life with a pre-schooler is trying to figure out what she’s talking about, most of the time. Her speech is actually quite clear (well, it is to me, anyway) but while each individual word is easily understood, she expresses herself in a hodge-podge of words, concepts and images cobbled together from home, day-care, TV, and her own vivid imagination.

(oh, the days and nights of frustrated bedtime angst it took to figure out that her demands for “The Kite Song” were for this little ditty. If you guessed that there is a rainbow-coloured kite suspended above her bed, that makes you far, far quicker on the uptake than her poor parents.)

This morning, as I was cutting up an apple for her breakfast, she announced that she wanted a “Big Fattie”.
Actually, what she said was, “Mommy, I want a big fattie, please I have it?”

And, you know, she said “please” so I was inclined to grant her request. If only I had the faintest idea what it was.

As it turns out, a “Big Fattie” is a quartered apple- as distinct from a diced or more thoroughly sliced apple. At daycare, little babies get their apples thin-sliced, while big kids are entitled to “Big Fatties”. Big Fatties don’t turn brown on you, and they come with the skin on. Big Fatties are the bestest way to eat an apple.

I’m not sure that “Fattie” is a word I would have introduced into her vocabulary, were her entire vocabulary up to me. But, clearly, it isn’t. And I think I’m very pleased that her associations with this word are happy ones- connected to abundance and sharing and the good food, and the bigness that is connected with her own growing sphere of ability and capability.

This is probably not the last context in which she will hear the words, “Big Fattie”. Because, in the way most of the rest of the world uses that phrase, whether or not she wanted one, she’s got one– me. But for now, the word comes without shame, or blame, or critique. A fattie is big in wonderful, satisfying, happy-making, take-my-apple-and-a-kiss-too, delicious ways.

Maybe if we start having Big Fatties for breakfast more often, it’ll become as easy for me to hear, as it is for her to say.


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Remember you are dust. on Produce

7 Comments Add your own

  • 1. spoonfork38  |  March 3, 2009 at 4:15 pm

    It took me three days to understand that when my toddler asked me to sing the “Peapod Song,” she actually wanted “I’m a Little Teapot.” Thank heavens she saw that picture of a tea set in that catalog (“Pea pod, Mommy! Dat Pea pod!”) or I would still be googling vegetable songs . . . I think what really got to me was when I said, “Oh! teapot! You want ‘I’m a Little Teapot’!” and she smiled, nodded, and patted my head. Good Mommy! I knew you’d get it someday. . .

    My Older Daughter once said out of the blue that fat people give the best hugs. That stunned me for a moment, until I realized that I was being given a great compliment. I don’t think she caught the skipped beat, there, so all was well . . .

  • 2. tara  |  March 3, 2009 at 4:17 pm

    I LOVE big fatties, but I doubt you would approve of the type I roll.

  • 3. Cleric at Large  |  March 3, 2009 at 4:20 pm

    Oh, I’m a sadly sheltered creature, aren’t I. Didn’t even see that coming. So long as you’re not sharing them with my three-year old, what you do with your big fatties is your own business, I suppose.

  • 4. Lori  |  March 3, 2009 at 4:30 pm

    My son is having a bit of a love affair with the word “fat” lately. At first he was saying it as if it were a bad thing, which I think is something he picked up from an older friend of his, who goes to the Detroit Public Schools where it seems like they are learning truly awful things about being fat and being given really bad advice about nutrition and exercise (“good” and “bad” foods, etc.). I just told him that people are all different sizes, just like they have all different skin colors and all different kinds of hair and voices, and that those are good things.

    He seemed to have no problem accepting that, but he now loves to tell me, “Mommy, you’re a little bit fat!” He thinks it’s a compliment. Sometimes he’ll say, “Mommy, I just wanted to remind you that you’re a little bit fat, so you won’t forget!” The first time he said that, I asked him why he didn’t want me to forget, and he said, “So you’ll be happy!” I think he was saying that the way I sometimes tell him, “I just want to tell you what a smart/nice/great kid you are.”

  • 5. Fat Angie  |  March 3, 2009 at 5:03 pm

    My little cousin is 10, and he always tells me that he loves how fat I am, because he can use my belly as a pillow.

  • 6. Nicole  |  March 3, 2009 at 5:42 pm

    Do any of you read the comic “Pearls Before Swine”? They had such a wonderful comic yesterday about the pig making friends with a hippo because he wanted big, soft, jiggly arms to hold him. I really loved it. Hey, I went and found it online:

  • 7. wellroundedtype2  |  March 3, 2009 at 8:34 pm

    I love this use of Big Fattie.
    I think one of the very most fun thing about being a parent of a preschooler is the pause that I have to give myself while stalling to avoid having a particular reaction and to ask for more information.

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